“Heavy equipment?”
“Certainly. We’ve got a lot of land to clear and a railway to build.” A superb starling walked boldly up to the mess tent, looking for scraps, and Roosevelt instantly withdrew his notebook and began scribbling again.
“The Congo’s in the middle of the continent,” Kermit pointed out. “It will be very difficult to bring in heavy equipment from the coast.”
“Nonsense,” scoffed Roosevelt. “The British disassembled their steamships, transported them in pieces, and then reassembled them on Lake Victoria and Lake Nyasa. Are you suggesting that Americans, who could build the Panama Canal and crisscross an entire continent with railroads, can’t find a way to transport bulldozers and tractors to the Congo?” He paused. “You just see to it that those letters are delivered. The rest will take care of itself.”
Just then Boyes approached them.
“Good morning, Mr. Boyes,” said Roosevelt pleasantly. “Are we ready to leave?”
“We can break camp whenever you wish, Mr. President,” said Boyes. “But one of our natives tells me there’s a bull elephant carrying at least one hundred and thirty pounds a side not five miles from here.”
“Really?” said Roosevelt, standing up excitedly. “Is he certain? I never saw ivory that large in Kenya.”
“This particular boy’s not wrong very often,” answered Boyes. “He says this bull is surrounded by three or four askaris — young males — and that he’s moving southeast. If we were to head off in that direction” — he pointed across the river to an expanse of dry, acacia-studded savannah — ”we could probably catch up with him in a little less than three miles.”
“Have we time?” asked Roosevelt, trying unsuccessfully to hide his eagerness.
Boyes smiled. “The Congo’s been waiting for someone to civilize it for millions of years, Mr. President. I don’t suppose another day will hurt.”
Roosevelt turned to his son and shook his hand. “Have a safe trip, Kermit. If I bag this elephant, I’ll have his tusks sent on after you.”
“Good-bye, Father.”
Roosevelt gave the young man a hug, and then went off to get his rifle.
“Don’t worry, son,” said Boyes, noting the young man’s concern. “We’ll take good care of your father. The next time you see him, he’ll be the King of the Congo.”
“President,” Kermit corrected him.
“Whichever,” said Boyes with a shrug.
It took Roosevelt six hours to catch up with his elephant, and the close stalk and kill took another hour. The rest of the day was spent removing the tusks and — at the ex-President’s insistence — transporting almost three hundred pounds of elephant meat to the porters who had remained with Kermit.
It was too late to begin the trek to the Congo that day, but their little party was on the march shortly after sunrise the next morning. The savannah slowly changed to woodland, and finally, after six days, they came to the Mountains of the Moon.
“You’re a remarkably fit man, Mr. President,” remarked Boyes, as they made their first camp in a natural clearing by a small, clear stream at an altitude of about 6,000 feet.
“A healthy mind and a healthy body go hand-in-hand, John,” replied Roosevelt. “It doesn’t pay to ignore either of them.”
“Still,” continued Boyes, “once we cross the mountains, I think we’ll try to find some blooded horses to ride.”
“Blooded?” repeated Roosevelt.
“Horses that have already been bitten by the tsetse fly and survived,” answered Boyes. “Once they’ve recovered from the disease, they’re immune to it. Such animals are worth their weight in gold out here.”
“Where will we find them, and how much will they cost?”
“Oh, the Belgian soldiers will have some,” answered Boyes easily. “And they’ll cost us two or three bullets.”
“I don’t understand.”
Boyes grinned. “We’ll kill a couple of elephants and trade the ivory for the horses.”
“You’re a resourceful man, Mr. Boyes,” said Roosevelt with an appreciative grin.
“Out here a white man’s either resourceful or he’s dead,” answered Boyes.
“I can well imagine,” replied Roosevelt. He stared admiringly at the profusion of birds and monkeys that occupied the canopied forest that surrounded the clearing. “It’s beautiful up here,” he commented. “Pleasant days, brisk nights, fresh air, clear running water, game all around us. A man could spend his life right here.”
“Some men could,” said Boyes. “Not men like us.”
“No,” agreed Roosevelt with a sigh. “Not men like us.”
“Still,” continued Boyes, “there’s no reason why we can’t spend two or three days here. We’ll be meeting our party on the other side of the mountains, but they probably won’t arrive for another week to ten days. It will take time for word of our enterprise to circulate through the Lado.”
“Good!” said Roosevelt. “It’ll give me time to catch up on my writing.” He paused. “By the way, where did you plan to pitch my tent?”
“Wherever you’d like it.”
“As close to the stream as possible,” answered Roosevelt. “It’s really quite a lovely sight to wake up to.”
“No reason why not,” said Boyes. “I haven’t seen any crocs or hippos about.” He gave a brief command to the natives, and pointed to the spot Roosevelt had indicated.
“Please make sure the American flag is stationed in front of it,” said Roosevelt. “Oh, and have my books placed inside it.”
“You know,” said Boyes, “we’re using two boys just to carry your books, Mr. President. Perhaps we could leave some of them behind when we break camp and push inland.”
Roosevelt shook his head. “That’s out of the question: I’d be quite lost without access to literature. If we’re short of manpower, we’ll leave my rifle behind and have my gunbearer carry one of the book boxes.”
Boyes smiled. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. President. It was just a suggestion.”
“Good,” said Roosevelt with a smile. “Just between you and me, I’d feel almost as lost without my Winchester.”
“You handle it very well.”
“I’m just a talented amateur,” answered Roosevelt. “I’m not in a class with you professional hunters.”
Boyes laughed. “I’m no professional.”
“You were hunting for ivory when we met.”
“I was trying to increase my bank account,” answered Boyes. “The ivory was just a means to an end. Karamojo Bell is a real hunter, or your friend Selous. I’m just an entrepreneur.”
“Don’t be so modest, John,” said Roosevelt. “You managed to amass quite a pile of ivory. You couldn’t do that if you weren’t an expert hunter.”
“Would you like to know how I actually went about collecting that ivory?” asked Boyes with a grin.
“Certainly.”
“I don’t know the first thing about tracking game, so I stopped at a British border post, explained that I was terrified of elephants, and slipped the border guards a few pounds to mark the major concentrations on a map of the Lado Enclave so I could avoid them.”